Saint Nick and the Fir Tree

By Nancy Adams

It's the day after Christmas and Saint Nick's on vacation. His first stop: the little town of Greenwood, where he meets a most unusual Tree. Nick and the Tree go out on the town, but a freak snowstorm brings their festivities to an unexpected conclusion.

"With “St. Nick and the Fir Tree” Nancy Adams gives us a fun, quirky, different take on how a tree celebrates Christmas. Not with lots of tinsel but lots of magic! A good, short read for the holidays."
--Michele Drier, author of Edited for Death in trade paperback, SNAP: The World Unfolds in ebook

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nancy Adams
• Release date: Nov 13, 2011
• ISBN: 9780984815319

Nancy Adams

A freelance editor and theological librarian, Nancy writes mysteries and fantasy. She is a member of Mystery Writers of America and Sisters in Crime. Her story "The Secret of the Red Mullet" has been published in FISH TALES: the Guppy Anthology (Wildside Press, 2011). The first of her SAINT NICK TALES, "Saint Nick and the Fir Tree," is available on Smashwords and elsewhere. In her spare time, Nancy reads, sleeps, and whacks the occasional dust bunny. For more information, visit her website: http://nancyadamsfiction.com

Book preview

Saint Nick and the Fir Tree

a short story of the day after Christmas

by Nancy Adams

Copyright 2011 by Nancy Adams

Published by Green Fern Press at Smashwords

All rights reserved

Cover art and design by Carrie Spencer

http://cheekycovers.com

To the memory of my mother,

who loved Santa Claus, and loved a good story

The fir tree had grown a punk haircut, as it did every summer. Sometimes Aunt Nancy wished the tree would act its age; trimming it could be quite a chore.

Once Aunt Nancy had finished, she stepped around the tree, examining its shape. Instead of a nice, smooth cone, the middle had become rather bulgy.

How fat you've grown! she exclaimed. What have you been up to?

The fir tree giggled.

The fir tree was really a yew, but it liked to think of itself as a fir tree. Yews mean sadness, death, and funeral wreaths; fir trees mean Christmas. No contest.

It preened itself, and said to Aunt Nancy, You really want to know? It's a long story.

It was the day after Christmas, and old Saint Nick was taking his annual vacation. His first stop was our